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Pretending to be Impregnated by My Billionare Ex Novel Cover

Pretending to be Impregnated by My Billionare Ex

After her sister Deanne commits the ultimate betrayal by stealing her baby and swapping him with another, a desperate mother is forced into a high-stakes deception. To rescue her son, she adopts a false identity and infiltrates the perilous underworld of her former lover, Prinston Saludés. Trapped in a web of syndicate secrets, stolen legacies, and lethal mafia family politics, she must navigate a treacherous path where one wrong move could cost her life—and any hope of saving her child.
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Chapter 1

Working as a part-timer in a five-star hotel wasn’t exactly how I imagined my life would turn out, but I didn’t have much of a choice. It was my only way to fund my studies and keep my dreams alive. My life at home was unbearable.

Deanne, my older sister, was the golden child—the perfect daughter in my parents’ eyes. Everyone adored her, and she knew it. She’d flaunt her privilege, throw it in my face, and use it as a weapon against me. It wasn’t just her words that hurt, though those alone could cut like knives.

But behind that facade, not everyone knew that he stole my first love, Prinston Saludés. I remember back then, I caught them both inside the lavatory, kissing each other as if they never saw me. And that day, Prinston grabbed my hand, dragging me on the cafeteria to embarass me in front of the students.

The last words he said to me pierced to my heart event up to this day, it freaking hurts me. “We're done, Jermaine. I don't need you. You are just a trash. Your sister and I are now a couple." he said.

And eversince, my world turned upside down, making my sister more evil to me. I was so heartbroken.

“Pathetic loser,” she’d hiss whenever I walked past her. “You’re just a parasite, leeching off this family. You’re nothing but a waste of space."

It didn’t stop there. Deanne didn’t think twice about slapping me across the face or yanking my hair when she was angry. Once, she even pushed me down the stairs, claiming it was an accident. I knew better, but when I tried to tell our parents, they didn’t even bother listening.

“Deanne wouldn’t do such a thing,” my mother snapped, glaring at me like I was the problem. “Stop making up stories, Jermaine.”

“Why can’t you be more like your sister?” my father added. “She’s successful. She’s everything we could’ve wanted in a daughter.”

Their words crushed me every time. They never cared about the bruises on my arms or the tears in my eyes. To them, I was invisible. A mistake. TRASH.

Deanne, of course, basked in their approval, smirking at me from across the room as they praised her for whatever trivial thing she did that day. She knew they’d always side with her. It gave her free rein to treat me however she wanted, knowing there’d be no consequences.

Eventually, I stopped fighting back. What was the point? No one cared. I lived in the shadows of Deanne’s perfection, her words and actions pushing me deeper into a pit of depression.

After a few years. One evening, while working my shift at the hotel, I saw Prinston Saludés again in person. My heart stopped as he strode through the corridor, his presence commanding attention. He was even more striking in real life—sharp features, tailored suit, an air of confidence that made everyone around him seem insignificant.

He was the only thing that once brought me even a shred of happiness. I’d read about him in magazines and see him on TV—he was successful, handsome, and seemingly untouchable now. He was everything I wasn’t, and I’d spent years harboring a crush on him as if he didn't dump me.

But then I saw her.

Deanne was with him, laughing at something he said as they entered Room 203. My stomach twisted with jealousy and anger. It wasn’t enough that she had everything handed to her on a silver platter—can't believe that she still had him.

I couldn’t let this go.

Hours later, I volunteered to clean Room 203. My hands shook as I knocked on the door, but no one answered. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open. The room was empty.

The sight that greeted me made my blood boil. The bed was a mess—pillows and sheets thrown everywhere. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened here.

Fueled by a mix of rage and desperation, I searched the room for evidence, something I could use to prove that Deanne wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought she was. Our parents think that she is conservative. Maybe, just maybe, if I could expose her, my parents would finally see the truth.

That’s when I found it.

A used condom, carelessly left under the bed.

Disgust rolled through me, but I couldn’t look away. The thought hit me suddenly—an insane, reckless idea. What if I used this to turn the tables? What if I could finally escape Deanne’s shadow and take something what she stole from me?

Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed the condom. My hands trembled as I stared at it, my heart racing.

It wasn’t just about revenge anymore. This was my chance to rewrite my story, to finally have something that was mine.

The next morning, I bought a pregnancy test. My hands shook as I waited for the results, the seconds feeling like hours. When the lines appeared, confirming what I already suspected, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration washed over me.

Positive.

I WAS PREGNANT.

With renewed determination, I went to Prinston’s office. My heart pounded as I stormed inside, ignoring the stares of his employees. This was it. My chance to claim a place in his world again, a life away from Deanne’s abuse and my parents’ neglect.

But I didn’t even get to see him.

His security team intercepted me before I could reach his office, dragging me out of the building as I shouted for him to take responsibility. My words fell on deaf ears, and by the time I was back on the street, I was in tears.

That night, I wandered aimlessly, too ashamed to go home. The city lights blurred through my tears as I sat on the curb, clutching my stomach. What had I done?

A taxi pulled up in front of me, and without thinking, I got in. I just needed to get away.

The driver didn’t say a word, which suited me fine. But a few minutes into the ride, I noticed a strange smell coming from the air conditioning.

“W-What’s that?” I asked, but he didn’t respond.

My head started to spin, the world around me tilting. Panic gripped me as I tried to open the door, but my limbs felt heavy.

The last thing I remembered was the driver’s cold, expressionless face before everything went black.

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